The Kiss
by AngelicKat445
Summary: this kiss will last forever.....even if the story doesn't


Cornelius Fillmore woke up to the sound of his buzzing alarm clock. With his eyes closed tightly together, he slammed the snooze button and swung his legs over to the side so he could get up.

It was 7:45 on a Wednesday morning and the first day back to school. He and almost the entire safety patrol were seniors now. Fillmore hadn't seen any of his comrades for 2 months and couldn't wait until he caught sight of them again.

He took only a few minutes to get ready – putting on his glasses, finding his left shoe. He didn't have to do too much to fix up his looks. He was a dark skinned 17-year-old with a body athletes worked all their lives to get. His head was screwed tightly on his shoulders and he was strong, brave, courageous, and, above all, strikingly handsome.

Just as he was slipping his socked foot into the sneaker, a voice from downstairs called up.

"Cornelius!" It was his mother, Joelle Fillmore. He winced at his forename. When he finally worked up the courage, he swore that he would change it. But, for now, he was going to leave it alone.

"Coming, ma!" he called down. In an instant, he was sprinting down the stairwell when he came face-to-face with his father, Karim. In his dark hand was a green, crisp, cold, Granny Smith apple, covered in tiny water beads from the fossett. Fillmore happily took it and ran out the door.

A smile was on his face as he walked down the sidewalk. He tossed the green apple into the air and caught it contentedly when it plummeted back to earth. With the grin still plastered on, he bit into its cold exterior to reveal a white delicious core.

Fillmore began to thing about the safety patrol. It was his home away from home. He was known as the best of the best there and it made him have a sense of pride to know that. But he knew that he wasn't the entire reason he was the best. One person was that special person who changed it all for him.

Ingrid Third.

Ingrid was different than the other girls. She wasn't boy, book, brain, or bronze crazy. She was an ex-delinquent, like him.

She was also Fillmore's best friend and partner for every case they solved. They knew each other like the back of their hands. It was almost as if they had some sort of telepathic bond between them. He would nod, she would count, the bad guys would be taken down, and they'd be rewarded.

However, the downside to having the closest and most successful partner and friendship was the way everyone teased them about being – as Ingrid put it – romantically inclined. The two of them may be as thick as thieves, but they were friends. End of story.

It's not that Fillmore didn't think she was pretty. She was, just not in the way most guys saw girls. Ingrid had shiny black hair that fell just over her shoulder partnered with long bangs the dropped right above her eyes. Her eyes were an intense shade of jade, her lips were red as blood, and her skin was pale like a ghost.

Her usual outfit consisted of a knee length black tank top dress and her old black loose-tongue ankle boots. In the others' eyes, she was the top ranking investigator next to him. In his, she was stunningly beautiful.

Fillmore shook himself out of the trance as he neared X High School. It was now 8:00 which meant school was in half an hour. Only the faculty and safety patrollers like Ingrid and himself were allowed in before actual school hours.

He walked down the corridors until he was just feet away from the Safety Patrol HQ. He noticed that there was almost no noise coming from the headquarters except the small bit of rustling papers. He took a quick look in. One light. Not bright enough to be a headlight. Someone was on the computer.

Slowly and carefully, Fillmore opened the door all the way and walked in to see someone at the desk next to his.

"Ingrid?"

She looked up from the monitor and smiled her trademark smile that he loved. He grinned as well while grabbing an orange sash from the pegs on the wall. He strode to his desk next to hers and sat down tiredly.

"Morning," she greeted, drinking her coffee. The cup was paper and said in big letters "Second Cup." She'd been up earlier than he expected. "What's up?" she added. He sighed, taking the cup from her desk.

"Nothing much………except it's the first day of school!" He took a sip of her coffee and placed it back on her small table. She grinned sarcastically and took it farther in so he couldn't reach it.

"It's not going to be that big of a deal. I heard that Mr. Tate is throwing pop quiz," she smiled. Fillmore groaned as he reached for the stimulant and Ingrid reached it first, sipping it mockingly.

"Why do teachers torture us? Well, more me than you," he heaved. She rolled her eyes and grunted in disgust.

Ingrid was the smartest person in school…………and X was the biggest high school in the country! She could take an IQ test against Albert Einstein and there's a good chance she'd be 5 points smarter than he was.

The main reason for her academic achievement was her photographic memory. She was the only person on the force who actually read the files and could read them off by heart – or memory.

Ingrid growled. She hated being pointed out for her brilliance and he knew it.

"I'm going to change the subject here," she informed his smiling face, rubbing her temples with great strength. Fillmore finally caught his coffee and drank the remaining quarter of it while she spoke. "Any idea who our latest perp is?"

She was obviously referring to their most recent case of a blabbermouth at the school. Somehow, everyone's secrets were getting out and the Safety Patrol was on it.

"I'm not entirely sure. But do you know who Courtney Gryffindor is?" Ingrid held one hand back up to the side of her forehead and thought hard for a moment before answering.

"Yeah, from X. She graduated last year after repeating 12th grade 3 times. Why?"

"She might have a grudge against the student body and staff." The bell rang before he could continue his sentence. Ingrid grabbed a thick locked black leather book on her desk that said in large print:

Journal

Who knew Ingrid had a journal, Fillmore thought to himself while grabbing his own pile of paperbacks. I wonder what it says………

He tried to put the thought out of his head for as long as possible. But as much as he knew his best friend's things were private, he just couldn't get that journal out of his mind!

In the middle of history class, during the pop quiz Ingrid had predicted, Fillmore looked back at the girl genius. She was either reading a book or writing something in that private diary. She had finished the quiz in the first 20 minutes and their history teacher praised her. She had looked rather embarrassed when he did so and she walked quickly back to her seat.

When the dismissal bell finally rang, Fillmore had finished his pop quiz and was able to think about something other than his friend's personal thoughts written on paper. He didn't see Ingrid until last period, so he didn't have to worry about it until then.

In the middle of Ingrid's 7th period class, French, Fillmore had quietly snuck in through the door. He'd whispered something to Mrs. Fleur, the teacher, who said in a low tone, "Ingrid Third, you're wanted by the Safety Patrol."

"What's happening?" she asked when he had taken her out of the classroom. The Safety Patrol never called her in the middle of class and, if they did, it was never by Fillmore.

"Follow me," he whispered. He then got into a stealth crouch as did she and they both walked down the hall to the pool area. With one hand over her eyes and the other on her partner's shoulder, Ingrid walked into the boys change room with Fillmore leading her.

"It's clear," he said. She uncovered her eyes and saw an empty near-pool area. She sighed with relief and followed him farther into it. They stopped right in front of the Arty the Aardvark, their school mascots, change room.

With great swiftness, Fillmore opened up the door and slipped Ingrid in behind him before shutting it. She was a bit aghast at his actions, but kept her comments to herself. He grabbed a box on the top shelf in the room that said in big letters:

Unimportant

Fillmore easily opened it to reveal a book that said "Courtney Gryffindor" on it. Inside were the contents of all the students embarrassing moments, downsides of life, and humiliating secrets.

Ingrid's face instantaneously lit up and she smiled happily. "You found it!" she shrieked. Without thinking, she threw her arms around his neck, which surprised him considerably.

Her face instantly turned a bright shade of red that almost matched her lips. She unlocked her appendages from his collar and began to stutter.

"We'd better get this stuff to Vallejo," she said quickly, running out of the room. Fillmore seemed in a daze as he carried the box out of the boys change room and into the Safety Patrol Headquarters. Ingrid was already in Vallejo's office, telling him about Fillmore's success.

"Is this true, Fillmore?" Vallejo asked, sipping his hot cocoa. Even though Vallejo was 17 just like them, he didn't drink coffee like the rest of them. He stayed on his cocoa obsession like when he was only in 7th grade.

"Is what true, Vallejo?" he inquired, his eyes questioning more of Ingrid than Vallejo. She just looked away from him, her skin turning pink a bit like earlier.

"You found the book that has everyone's discriminating secrets?" he replied. Fillmore took a seat next to his partner while nodding. "Well, then, we very much thank you. And, in case you want it, here's a certificate to Second Cup. I don't know how you guys can drink that sludge!"

Fillmore laughed as he and Ingrid walked out of the small office. The gift card was for 10 bucks – only worth a few of the best coffees.

"So, what's next?" he asked, sitting on the edge of her desk. Just when she was about to answer, the final bell rang. She looked at him warmly.

"Want to come to my place? My dad's making chicken. It's not as fancy as the stuff your mom makes, though." He laughed and took off the sash while taking the one Ingrid handed to him. He hung them up before grabbing his and her jackets and heading out.

Ingrid's house was only a 15 minute walk, but it seemed like an eternity. They didn't chat, for some inexplicit reason. _She's probably waiting until we get to her place_, Fillmore had thought during the perpetual walk. And, much to his relief, he was right.

"It wasn't _that _tasteless," he'd insisted while walking up the stairs to Ingrid's room. She giggled and plopped herself down into a beanbag chair. The dark skinned teenager sat on her desk where he noticed her journal. She smiled again before talking.

"I'll be right back," she confirmed. And with that note, she walked out the door.

Fillmore began to twiddle his thumbs, trying to hold himself back from the urge to open the log and read it. Finally, he couldn't stop himself. His hands wrapped around her diary and opened it secretly. He quickly read the first entry his eyes caught sight of. It was from yesterday.

September 4th 7:13 pm

I'm writing this the night before my first day of 12th grade. I have a hunch that Mr. Tate is going to give us a pop quiz. I'll bet lunch with Fillmore about it tomorrow – aka, he's buying! Maybe he'll need money and if he does, I'm not going to give him a loan!

Fillmore laughed under his breath and read the next one. It was from this morning – _early_ this morning.

September 5th 2:54 am

I had 'the dream' again. I know that I've described it in previous entries, but I'll portray it again.

I'm lying in his bed, tossing and turning, feeling around for the blanket. I wonder why I'm so cold until I realize that I'm wearing the black bikini Tehama gave me for my 17th birthday. He walks inside the room and I can feel the heat of his body against mine. He pressed his burning hot lips to my ice cold ones and we hold before he begins to run his lips against my shoulder.

"Cornelius," I call out and I can feel him smile against my skin. He reaches for the black straps when I wake up.

I'm thinking about telling him……

In a minute, he had dropped the book and was taken back. _Ingrid likes _me_! The Ingrid I know likes me?_

Suddenly, Ingrid walked inside. She was just as pretty as he remembered her before she left for 2 minutes. She noticed him staring at her in a dazed manner.

"What?" She let out a silly laugh. He shook his head from his confounded expression and smiled a bit.

"Nothing," he said softly. She smiled widely at him and walked forward. Just as she came close, she accidentally stepped on her journal which Fillmore dropped. She looked down at her feet to find out what she tripped on.

"What's this doing here?" she asked herself under her breath, putting it back on her desk. "Ideas, Fillmore?"

"Oh, I, uh, kind of knocked it off while jumping off," he lied. She nodded and put it under a pile of textbooks for math, algebra, English, French, and psychology. "Anyway, I've got to go home. Mom's making apple crisp tonight. If there's any left, I'll bring it to you, 'kay?" She gave him a grateful smile while he got off her desk and walked out of the third house.

"I have hard cold evidence here that it was Courtney Gryffindor," Fillmore said, coming into the Safety Patrol HQ. He was talking to Ingrid, who was sipping a mug of tea. She looked up from her journal entry and slapped the cover over it before he could see.

"Really?" she said, sustaining her head with her left hand. She took another mouthful with her right before talking again. "And what substantiation would that be, Mr. Fillmore?" He threw the folder of proof onto her desk and she opened the thick file.

Inside it was everything about Courtney Gryffindor and her usual whereabouts. It also said what she had been doing the past week.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked, sitting at his desk. She memorized it in her photographic memory before turning to him.

"I think that this is just about everything we need to know about her," she smiled. He gave her a white tooth grin before continuing. "By the way, um, do you, uh, want to………"

The bell rang before she could finish and she beamed before grabbing a schoolbook and racing out of the headquarters. But within seconds, she ran back in, pecked Fillmore on the cheek, and darted back out.

His hand came up to the touched spot and another safety patroller, Joseph Anza, came up and noticed his fluffy idiom.

"Dude, you okay?" he asked, snapping in front of his face. He shook his head out of the trance and came back to reality.

"Yeah, fine," he said to him. "In fact, I'm perfect."

Ingrid walked out of her last class, psychology, smiling happily. She had finally faced her fears by giving him at least a peck and smiled at herself.

She turned towards her locker where she saw Fillmore……………making out with Courtney Gryffindor! She dropped her 2 pound book onto the tiled floor, which seemed to get their attention. Courtney began running her lips up his neck while Fillmore just gawked at Ingrid as she ran out of X Middle School.

With both arms, she shoved open the doors of the school. Her black hair was flying past her face as she dashed from her least favorite place. All she could think about was Fillmore – _her _Fillmore – locking lips with that evil little devil! She wanted to pin her to the ground and rip off her pierced ears, but she knew that wasn't something the Safety Patrol would consider classy.

Instead, Ingrid ran home. She jumped over her fence and began climbing up the giant tree in her backyard. The branches were thick and strong enough to hold her weight while she let the tears run free. The image kept rerunning in her mind.

Fillmore. Lips. Courtney. Kiss.

She shook her head and tried to forget the figures swapping spit. But she couldn't. Her partner, best friend, and secret love was kissed by the dark side.

In the distance, Ingrid could here people shouting her name. It sounded like Vallejo, Anza, Tehama, O'Farrell, and a few other students. The only person she couldn't hear was Fillmore. But that didn't last too long.

"So," called an oh-so familiar voice from down below, "are you going to come down or do I have to climb up?" Ingrid's eyes fell down the trunk to see him, leaning against it with a half smile on. She didn't make a movement to get down. Instead, she pulled her knees up to her chest and held them tightly with her arms.

"Okay, then. I guess I'm coming up," he shouted. And with that, he began to climb up the high oak tree. She could hear him grunting a bit to get all the way up to her spot but, finally, he sat down next to her.

"I'm not talking to you," she mumbled, propping her head in her knees. He held up his hands in surrender.

"You don't have to. But I'm going to talk to you. Why did you skip school?"

"I saw you and Courtney."

Fillmore hit his forehead in realization of her thoughts. "Ingrid, did you really think that I would fall for her?"

"Well, she's got all the perquisites that guys like. Long locks of gold, eyes of sapphire, lips of rose petals. She's peppy, pleasant, cheerful, and, above all, popular. In other words, she's the opposite of me."

"What are you talking about? Sure, you're not as accepted, positive, enjoyable, and perky as she is, most of the time. But you've got way more than that! You're smart and funny and chipper, at times. You laugh at everything I say, even if it's not funny. And you're way prettier than she is!"

Ingrid's eyes wandered from her backyard to his face. "You're just saying that," she declared.

"If I was lying, would I do this?" And with his last words, he picked up her face in his hands and placed his lips on hers. The tears that still clung to her face were wiped away by his warm thumb as he stroked her features.

Finally, he let go and she opened her surprised eyes. She smiled warmly at him, threw her arms around his broad neck, and once again kissed him.

Two days after their incident, Courtney Gryffindor was put in perpetual detention for releasing all the students secrets.


End file.
